


Mind— and Matter

by HurricaneSunrise (citrus_cactus)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Series, diodeshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrus_cactus/pseuds/HurricaneSunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a student of science, Clemont never was one to put much stock in clairvoyance or other superhuman nonsense. Then again, when he's with Ash, sometimes he has to wonder... Post-series, Diodeshipping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind— and Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatCat (Opallene)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opallene/gifts).



> Well, what can I say. This is unabashed PPWP— Pokémon Porn Without Plot— featuring everyone's favorite anime protagonist and nerdy inventor boyfriend. This is my half of a Diodeshipping fic exchange, with a prompt of Psychic/Impish, Clemont topping— and believe me, it was a really fun idea to play with given the telepathic conversation that happens during Satoshi's gym battle with Citron in the original! :3
> 
> What else? I generally don't like to think of any character in a strict "seme" or "uke" sense, and I have myself convinced Ash at least has no preference for what position he's in, so consider this one of many times in their relationship Clemont decides to take the lead XD Also, this is my first full-fledged lemon for any fandom, so I appreciate any and all feedback that would help me improve. Diodeshipping deserves nothing but the best, and I hope you enjoy my small contribution!

"Hey Clemont, are you sure you're not a mind-reader?"

"...Hmm?"

"You _sure_ you're not a mind-reader?'"

Clemont could feel himself smile indulgently against Ash's collarbone. He was highly doubtful they were in this position due to any sort of sixth sense or telepathic ability on his part. To him, it was much more rooted in the innocent touches and meaningful looks of earlier that afternoon. Touches had turned into caresses, which turned into kissing and stroking, and before long Clemont realized he was leading Ash upstairs, closing the bedroom door, and undressing them both so they could touch and kiss and stroke each other some more. Ash's mouth was open and their tongues sliding against one another's before Clemont had even finished kicking off his shoes. In a single practiced motion, he tipped Ash backward onto the bed and climbed on top of him, gaining full access to the dark-haired teen's newly-exposed body.

At which point Ash had started to wonder if Clemont was privy to some form of psychic power.

But Clemont didn't really see the need to answer right away. He captured Ash's mouth in another heady kiss and traced a hand down his chest, feeling past ribs and angled hips to brush ever-so-lightly against the soft flesh straining upward just below his navel. The steady rise and fall of Ash's chest sharpened for an instant as he let out a sudden, hitching gasp.

"I just can't figure it out," Ash continued through increasingly labored breathing, his tone carrying equal amounts fascination and admiration. "You knowing what I want even before I do. It's like… it's like _magic_ or somethin'."

Clemont laughed, inclining his head to leave a deliberately slow trail of kisses along Ash's jawbone and neck. "Well, Ash, I _am_ a scientist," he said with an air of playful contention. His hand was still tracing patterns around Ash's midsection, and Ash was responding with softly rolling hips and fists balled gently into the bedsheets. "And at its core, science is about gaining knowledge through observation and experimentation, all with the goal of achieving reliable—"

He brushed.

"Repeatable—"

He grabbed.

"Results."

He pumped once, and felt Ash throb, _hard_ , against the inside of his palm.

Clemont's gaze shifted upward. Ash's eyes were hooded but bright, his skin flushed as if he had just accepted the call of a Pokémon battle, his whole body alert and vibrant, and Clemont couldn't help but recall something else he usually had such a hard time believing: that of all the places Ash Ketchum could be and all the things he could be doing, he was choosing to be _here_ , with him.

"But it's _not_ just that," Ash was insisting. "It can't be, because... ahn!" Clemont pumped again, more firmly this time, feeling Ash's back arch and his hands clutch still more tightly to whatever part of the mattress they could find. But Clemont was pretty sure he knew exactly how Ash had been planning to finish that sentence. He knew because he had _always_ felt that way, wherever Ash was concerned.

_... because everything is just so perfect when I'm with you._

"Ash, do you want me to—" he started to ask, but Ash was already nodding emphatically, and that was all the encouragement Clemont needed. Planting one last kiss on Ash's waiting mouth, he inched a well-lubricated finger down until he could feel a tight, circular ring of muscles— and pushed.

The reaction was immediate: a loud, keening moan escaping from the back of Ash's throat, limbs contracting ever so slightly, every inch of his body poised and wanting as he gradually relaxed into the sensation. Clemont curled and twisted in a way he knew the other boy would appreciate, and was not disappointed. Every movement and the addition of more fingers brought more writhing movement and delectable sounds from Ash, until Clemont could tell— from the way he looked, from the way he _felt_ — he was ready.

Something in Clemont's own stomach was starting to build, winding around itself like a tightly coiled spring as he began to ease himself in. Up until now, all of his senses had been heightened, focused, trained with laser-guided precision on the act of getting Ash where he needed to be. Now, he was dimly aware the effects all of _this_ — the warmth, the intimate closeness, the picture of Ash framed beneath him in exquisite agony— was starting to have on his own body. The overwhelming sense of _everything_ was threatening to overtake him, the tightness in his stomach magnified by the tightness around his cock as he continued to sink deeper, and he started to wonder if each passing moment would end up being his last. But then his eyes would always manage to find Ash's, to hold him there for one glorious fraction of a second, and somehow that simple affirmation was enough to keep him going. When he was as far in as he could go, he paused briefly, reasserting control over his composure, pulse pounding and insides licked with fire. He braced himself, took one last anchoring breath— and then slowly, steadily, began to move.

"Clemont—!"

He immediately dropped his hands to the mattress and lowered his head to grant as little space between their bodies as physically possible: breathing, rocking, drawing, pulling in a controlled rhythm and taking cues from Ash in order to gradually increase the tempo. Clemont could feel Ash's arms and legs wrapped around his back, strands of dark hair tickling his face, tanned skin burning virtually incandescent against his own, hot breath and panting moans trapped in the sheath of air between them, every muscle of that lean, athletic body curved around him in a wild transport of pleasure. It was then Clemont could have sworn he heard words seep through the haze forming around the corners of his brain, words he could no longer place with any well-reasoned sense of certainty— if Ash was shouting them; if they were being spoken, mouthed, or thought; if they were somehow a part of _both_ of them; or if they existed (of course, but... no, surely not?) only in Clemont's head.

_So good... I want... always, with you... I love... don't ever, EVER stop...!_

And he was thrusting in time with the sound of Ash's ragged breathing, feeling every change in that perfect body through his own, losing himself in the heat and the movement and the sound of Ash's cries reverberating on the heavy air, both of them so painfully, beautifully, _wonderfully_ close... and it was moments like these, when they were so completely wrapped up in each other, that Clemont's consciousness seemed to expand outward for an instant, and he could no longer tell where he himself ended and the world, the future, his entire brightly-shining universe (oh, _Ash!_ ) truly began.

Ash beat him to the finish, but only just. With one last shuddering breath, Clemont collapsed on the pillow next to him, seeing stars, basking in the electric warmth that lingered wherever their skin made contact. Ash was looking at him again, eyelids heavy with an expression of exhausted contentment.

"That... was amazing," Ash said, pressing a sleepy kiss into his neck. " _You're_ amazing. Though I s'ppose," he admitted with a grin, "this is one time I wish you could be just a little _less_ amazing, so it didn't hafta be over so soon, y'know?"

Clemont couldn't resist the opportunity. He leaned over, lips teasing lightly against the curve of Ash's ear. "Well Ash, as it just so happens," he whispered, "I thought we were going to encounter a situation _precisely_ like this one, so I took the liberty of inventing a little something that might help us out in that area, if you're interested..."

He felt a delighted shiver run down Ash's spine and smiled.

Who knew? Maybe he _was_ a bit of a mind-reader, after all.


End file.
